


The Rapture in the Dark

by spellitwithyourpeas



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellitwithyourpeas/pseuds/spellitwithyourpeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She watched his chest rise and fall in a fluid motion as he slept. Claire couldn’t help but wonder if his nightmares were still crafted from a world on fire or if they drifted into a world of shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rapture in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carrythesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrythesky/gifts).



> Thank you @carrythesky for sending in the word prompt "nightmares" over on tumblr <3 
> 
> Title from "Bite" by Troye Sivan

He supposed he should have taken the closed window as a sign that he maybe wasn’t welcome.

That didn’t occur to him till after their conversation.

Nevertheless, Matt slid the window open and slipped in to her apartment stiffly, the knife had cut deep enough to warrant a visit.

At least it had been unlocked.

He took off his mask, setting it on the table before he softly called out her name.

Cocking his head, he listened. Her heartbeat was racing a frantic beat. Her sheets rustled against her twisting movements-crisp, like autumn leaves. Her breathing was shallow.

The trace of fear was tangible in the air.

Her fingers clenched the sheets in a tight grip and she whimpered.

“Claire.” He knelt at her side, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from his touch and woke, eyes wild.

“You’re safe, hey, you’re safe.” His hand returned, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she sat up.

“Matt?” Her voice was thick with sleep and heavy with emotion and she glanced over to him. Concern evident on his expression. His voice, kind.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Matt spoke softly, listening to her body slow.

“Shit. It’s usually not that bad.” She brushed a strand of hair back and couldn’t hold back the quiet hum of a sigh at the feel of the hand on her arm in a comforting grip. Her mind was still muddied, still on edge. Her body, craved more touch. Something to chase away the brutality and the darkness that haunted her sleep.

She wanted to lean into him. She wanted-

“You haven’t been sleeping well?”

Claire snorted, “Use your super senses to detect the bags under my eyes?”

He gave a huff, “I’m being serious Claire.”

Her head jerked up and her eyes narrowed at his pursed lips.

“So am I.” She snapped, her shoulders tensed and he dropped his hand. Claire cringed, closing her eyes at the loss.

The frustration was momentary and passing.

She released the breath she’d been holding and took his hand back in hers. Her words were earnest.   “I’m not like you Matt. I don’t get… put through the grinder and then rejoice when shit finds me again.” She paused, expecting a defense, but he remained silent, “Last year? With the Russians?” Claire shivered and Matt tensed at the memory.

The phone call. The scream. He remembered the panic and the feeling of being completely disabled. Caught off guard.

She remembered fear. Pain. Totally alone and helpless. She fucking hated it.

“That still scares the hell out of me. And then men with swords start attacking us? Matt, I watched a friend die.” She swallowed, rubbing her cracked hands together, callused and worn with the years.

“So yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.” Claire muttered in conclusion.

“I’m sorry Claire,” and she heard it in his voice. There was so much anguish in his voice. He looked like Atlas in the flesh, kneeling in front of her, shaking under the weight of the world on his scarred shoulders. She traced from his temple to his jaw. Her eyes flickered over him as his lips parted. “No, save the apology. I’m not assigning blame it’s just-,” She shook her head in disbelief, “it’s just…difficult to process sometimes.” Claire wiped her eyes. “God. I hate crying.” She laughed and sniffed. “All I’m trying to say is I’ve had hard time lately with it all, but I made a choice. I could have said no.”

“I shouldn’t have- God, I shouldn’t have brought them to you, Claire. You wanted out and I-Shit, I dragged you back in,” Claire smiled sadly at his broken attempt to make amends.  

She leaned in, her forehead touching lightly against his.  “Not everything is your fault, Matt.” It was a whisper and she willed him to hear the words. For them to sink in and reach the part of him that was suffocating under the pressure.

He closed his eyes at her touch and inhaled sharply. She didn’t hesitate when she pressed her lips to his. Nipping lightly, she snagged his lips with her teeth and he deepened the kiss with a small growl that made her shiver and arch into him. A sigh passed from her as they paused, her gaze flickered over the man in front of her. His fingers trailed up her throat and his lips returned, hungry and warm.  She dragged him towards her, leaning back into the bed, but he resisted, pulling back all too soon. “We shouldn’t….”, Matt whispered.

Clair ducked her head, her breathing ragged. She pushed herself up and he leaned away from her as if her touch was electric. “Yeah, yeah we shouldn’t.” She almost shuddered at own words and the memory of their agreement.

_I’ll always be there, when you really need me to patch you up. Beyond that?… Yeah._

_Yeah_

Claire stood and walked over to her closet, her body still singing. _You don’t want this and you sure as hell don’t need this._ Half of the sentence was a lie.

He listened silently as she gathered her bag of supplies. “Alright then. What am I fixing tonight?” Claire exhaled slowly, donning her gloves with a snap.

His voice was rough, laced with desire. She smirked. _Glad to know it’s not just me._

“Knife wound on my back. It’s deep.”

She groaned and rolled her shoulders. “Ok. Sit at the table. Let’s get that suit off.”

This was their game and she kept coming back into the arena, ready and willing. Maybe she was like him too in a way. His guilt. Her guilt. She bit her tongue, failing to halt the memory of her own words, coming to the aid of the devil at her side.

_“I want everything to be my fault. Good or bad. Means I have some control.”_

_Damn it._

It took time. She did her best to cause the least amount of pain. He did his best to resist flinching.

“Claire, you don’t have to be so-,”

She interrupted him as she pulled the suture through, “Matt, shut the hell up and let me do my job.”

His lips twitched in a smile and he gave a small nod before hissing at the sting.

Light streamed through her blinds as the day approached and she braced herself for the night ahead-one of four straight twelves.

 _Focus Temple. Focus on the goddamn task at hand._ She marveled at the scars that already lined his back, the skin puckered and white. Claire knew them well. She supposed they were reminders for him-of close calls, of failures, and maybe even some successes in the mix.

What was one more? Which one would break him?

When she finished, she glanced at the clock, “Look, Matt. Just sleep here today alright? Don’t need you getting into any trouble trying to make it back to your apartment.” Her tone lightened, “If I had anything that’d fit you I’d offer but-,” she shrugged. It’s not that she had any boyfriend or even ex-boyfriend’s clothes lying around, it’d been too long.

He nodded with a chuckle.

“Good. C’mon, I’ll help you up.”

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and throughout the morning she would glance over at his sleeping form. If they had been more, maybe she would have asked for more details. How had he been lately? Did he still see his friends?  But it didn’t seem fitting. Why delve? The kiss had already been a mistake. One that every irrational part of her wanted to repeat. It wasn’t like her to slip up, but Matt Murdock…with his gentle touches, puppy eyes, and fixation on morality had a way of distracting her from rational decisions.

Ah, well. At least she could admit that.

She watched his chest rise and fall in a fluid motion as he slept. Claire couldn’t help but wonder if his nightmares were still crafted from a world on fire or if they drifted into a world of shadows.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I love feedback!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/)


End file.
